


No courage in flirting with fear

by towards_morning



Series: Primacy (yelling all the way down) [6]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Continuity mixture, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Outsider, Shovel Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 08:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24347845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towards_morning/pseuds/towards_morning
Summary: Jazz catches up with an old work friend.Orion had not, exactly, ever told Jazz that he’d ended up fragging that gladiator he’d been so hung up on against all better judgement.
Relationships: Jazz & Optimus Prime, Megatron/Optimus Prime, Megatron/Optimus Prime/Starscream, Megatron/Starscream (Transformers), Optimus Prime/Starscream
Series: Primacy (yelling all the way down) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1424047
Comments: 10
Kudos: 91





	No courage in flirting with fear

**Author's Note:**

> This is not literally ANY of the Primacy fics I am supposed to be writing because Jazz Transformers came into my home and gave me brainworms so instead THIS happened, somehow.
> 
> Takes place fairly early in the Primacy series timeline.
> 
> Title is from Eat You Alive by The Oh Hellos.

It’d been more than a minute since Jazz was in Iacon. Much more, actually. So it’d been a while since Jazz saw Orion in the metal instead of just hearing him on haphazard comms sent back and forth at a time lapse.

_He looks good_ , Jazz noted. A little brighter than he’d last seen him. Standing a little straighter too, at his full height.

“Sorry we don’t have a spare berth,” Orion said as he unlocked the door. “Haven’t gotten around to thinking about stuff like that yet, I guess.”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Jazz said, following him inside and looking around. “Good of you to put me up anyway, sorry ‘bout the short notice there.” If ‘comming once he’d gotten into the city’ counted as notice at all. But Orion smiled over his shoulder and waved it away. Good mech.

The flat wasn’t much of anything, really. Fine, but clearly not a lived in space yet. If asked to describe it Jazz would be able to say “there was furniture, and it had walls in all the rooms” and not much else. Maybe he’d mention that it’s pretty tall, though given who else is living here, it would presumably have to be.

Speaking of- “So where’s the new bunk buddy?”

Orion flushed a little at the phrasing but soldiered on. “Oh, uh, he’s out til tonight. I commed him though, it’s fine, he knows you’re here.” Orion didn’t say what Megatronus had actually _said_ about it, Jazz noted. Probably nothing nice. Megatronus never liked Jazz, which made sense, given that Jazz is a perfectly reasonable mech and Megatronus wouldn’t know “reasonable” if it stripped his paint personally.

“Cool.” He flopped down onto the couch, settling back with a sigh. He’d ended up making the whole trip in one night, and truth be told he’s starting to flag now. “Mind if I doze off on ya? I’m beat.”

“No problem,” Orion said. “We can catch up tonight?”

“Sure thing,” Jazz said, turning his proximity alarm on and settling into recharge.

* * *

Orion had not, exactly, ever told Jazz that he’d ended up fragging that gladiator he’d been so hung up on against all better judgement. To be fair he could be forgiven that to some degree- things being what they were in the first few weeks after the government got flipped into perfect disarray and all.

Still, a year and a half later and the first Jazz heard about a decision this spectacularly ill-advised was when Orion tacked _oh, we’ve moved in together, by the way_ onto the end of a comm? Really?

It wasn’t that Jazz disliked Megatronus, which he did. It wasn’t even that Megatronus was a danger to everyone around him, which he was. It wasn’t _even_ that Orion is a very sweet and naive mech with no sense of self preservation, which Jazz knows all too well he is.

Nah, more than anything Jazz was simply made excruciatingly aware of how long he’s been without a hand on the pulse. Something like that slipping him by was just ridiculous.

_Well,_ he’d thought as he got ready to swing back through, _no time like the present._

* * *

Jazz came out of recharge on full alert and sat straight up, neatly headbutting the mech peering right at him in the process and squinting as he stumbled back swearing, clutching their helm. Those proximity mods were sensitive.

“Frag,” he said, “The pit was that for, you-”

“Sorry, light sleeper,” Jazz said. “You startled me.” The other bot was a seeker, he could see now, all sharp angles and twitches. When he drew hands away from his just slightly dented helm, he was scowling.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, hands on his hips. One foot started to tap impatiently, loud against the unadorned floor. “Who let you in? That’s my spot.”

“Uh, Orion,” Jazz said, “Sorry, your spot? The couch?”

“Whatever,” the bot said, huffing. “Get up, I’m tired.”

Making sure not to let his bemusement show, Jazz obliged, stretching as he checked the time. He’d managed a couple of hours, at least. “Sorry, didn’t know Orion had other guests. He didn’t mention.”

At the word ‘guest’, Jazz was treated to a narrow squint as his companion threw himself down on the couch. “What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t,” Jazz said, trying out a smile. “Jazz. Nice to meet you, sorry about the-”

“Oh, Orion mentioned you,” the seeker said, stretching his legs and collapsing back with a sigh. “Said you were up with him at the archives with all the other nerds. Gotcha.” Seemingly satisfied and apparently no longer interested, the seeker promptly shut his optics off and dropped into what appeared to be instantaneous recharge.

Jazz looked at the heap of mech for a few moments before shaking his head and going through to find Orion.

“Oh, Starscream’s here?” was all his friend said when questioned. Jazz had found him in his berthroom poking at a datapad. Predictable as ever.

“Is that his name? Didn’t see fit to give it before collapsing,” Jazz said. “Y’know, if you’d said you had a guest-”

But Orion shook his head. “No, no, he’s not a… guest, don’t worry. I just, uh, wasn’t expecting him to drop by for a bit, he’s been busy. If he stays he doesn’t have to take the couch, he was just being an aft.”

“He comes by a lot, then? One of Megatronus’ pals, I’m guessing?”

Orion cycled his optics three times in quick succession. “Er, well.” He seemed to be thinking hard, the look in his eye he got when going over his records. “I must have mentioned him before..?”

“Nope,” Jazz said, with the latest sinking feeling of the day.

“Ah,” said Orion, putting down his reading. “Hm. Well.”

* * *

Jazz reformulated his plan.

The plan having been simple, to begin with: swing through, beg a couple of nights crashing on Orion’s couch like old times, take some time to watch Megatronus-

( _“Er, it’s Megatron now,” Orion had said, “Long story.”_ )

-to watch Megatron, and determine whether it was unthinking emotional incompetence or actual malice that made him think this was a good idea. Then he could tailor his shovel talk accordingly, take a night to drag Orion out like old times, and be on his way.

Starscream threw a wrench into that very nicely. Megatron was a predictable mech who Jazz knew how to handle. Starscream wasn’t just unknown to him, but also seemed like a complete nightmare even after only five minutes talking to him.

Jazz thought about it on a drive through the city, circling back on himself as he turned it over in his head. In the end, he stopped off at a nice engex shop, bought a couple decently priced bottles, and headed back as the sun started to dim.

When he stepped in, Starscream was awake and crammed into the corner of the couch, wings awkwardly twitching where he’d wedged them over the armrest. Orion was nowhere to be seen. Perfect.

“Hey,” he said as he closed the door behind him, making a show of fiddling with his subspace when Starscream looked up. “Wanted to say sorry about earlier. Your head feelin’ OK?”

“Fine,” Starscream said, sniffing. “No thanks to you.”

Jazz produced a bottle with a flourish. “Yeah, I know. Here, peace offering for ya.”

_That_ got his attention. When he walked to hand it over, Starscream whisked it out of his hand without so much as a word, peering intently at the label. After a second, he shrugged, twisted the cap and drank straight from the bottle, apparently deciding it was good enough.

There was room on the couch now, so Jazz sat down, producing his own bottle and wondering if it was worth poking around for glasses. “So, we good?”

Starscream rolled his optics. Primus, but the mech carried melodrama in every _strut_ , that much was obvious. “Sure, sure.”

Jazz kept prodding, looking for a way in. “Orion told me you met through Megatron,” he said, settling in. He kept smiling and cocked his helm over, conspiratorial. _Easy, go slow,_ he thought. “Bet that’s a good story.”

Starscream kept eye contact as he drank from the bottle again. His optics were sharp. Jazz met them and tried his best to look like he hadn’t been caught off guard.

“Not really,” Starscream demurred, lowering his bottle. “I’m sure he told you the basics. Yes? You’re such good friends, after all,” Starscream said, smiling. Jazz fought not to clench his denta.

“Ah, but the basics ain’t what I’m after,” Jazz said. He took another pull from his bottle. Starscream failed to follow the line of his throat as he did, instead keeping optics locked. Another data point. “I’m sure we can do better than that.”

Starscream was silent for a few kliks. When he split into a wicked grin, Jazz insisted to himself that was a relief and not cause for concern.

“I’m sure we can,” Starscream said, inching a little closer on the couch. Jazz stayed steady, smile in place. Starscream continued, “I’d _love_ to hear your stories.”

* * *

When Jazz woke up the next day on the couch with a moderate processor ache, far too early to be considered sane, he at least took the chance to evaluate. Doing so made him feel that bit less embarrassed. The little things in life.

The sun wasn’t quite out yet. He sat up against the armrest and took a moment to look over what the previous evening had garnered him.

Point one: Starscream had met Orion through Megatron. Point two: he seemingly had no actual fixed profession, place of residence or the like. Point three: he was an insane slagger whose grasp of emotional stability was of a significantly lower caliber than Megatron's had ever been.

This wasn't to say Jazz hadn't had _fun_ , of course. Starscream was also a gossip and really quite funny once you got enough engex in him that he forgot to be quite so aggressively haughty. He certainly had less of a violently self-righteous stick up his aft than Megatron, though perhaps that wasn't saying much. Even so. Not exactly the best first impression given Jazz's intentions with this little trip to begin with.

After getting some coolant out and downing it in one go, Jazz made his way over to the window and looked out while he thought. So when the door opened behind him and he heard heavy footsteps, the moment of surprise on his face was, thankfully, unseen.

"Oh," Megatron said, sounding irritable. "You're up."

Jazz turned to look him over. Name change or not, he looked just as Jazz remembered him, perhaps just that little less scuffed these days, not so banged up- for obvious reasons. But the burnished grey and over-armored chassis were just as they had always been, no concession made to any exit from the pits.

"Morning to you too, Megs," Jazz said, "Long time no see."

Megatron grunted. He stayed there in the doorway, eyes narrow while he looked over Jazz. The mech was probably going for intimidating but it was coming across more like he wished he'd hit "ignore" on his alarm this morning, optics tired and flickering a little, so the effect wasn't all that impressive.

"Nice place you got here," he continued when Megatron continued to stand there in silence. "Orion said you only got it, hm, what, a vorn ago?"

Megatron moved to go get fuel of his own, still not saying a word. Jazz moved aside to let him pass and hopped up onto a counter, legs swinging. Megatron cut a look at him and glared some more, but still nothing to say. Funny that. Usually the trouble was getting the bot to shut the pit up.

Jazz waited til Megatron was done measuring out his energon and had it to his mouth. "So, how long, d'you think?"

That finally got him something. "How long what?"

"You're gonna stick to it."

Understanding passed over Megatron's face all at once and he put down his fuel, turning to face Jazz fully. For his part Jazz only gave him a grin. "Think it's a fair question, all things considered."

"Do you," Megatron said, and ah, there it was- vocalizer dropped a notch, a little less level now.

"Come on," Jazz said, "You got an _apartment_ together? Really? That was your big play?" He rolls his optics under his visor. "Playing house ain't gonna paper over anything for long, you know. It's not some kinda cure-all."

"I don't know if you recall," Megatron said, dry as anything, "But my previous living situation was not exactly enviable." He'd tensed up a little too, struts wound tight, drawn up to his full height. Jazz looked him over, a punch in the face of a mech in this little factory settings apartment.

"Mm," he said. He nodded. "I mean, sure, it's not like I don't know you wanted out. You made that pretty clear. Gotta say though, didn't take you for the kinda mech who wanted it bought and paid for."

" _Excuse me,_ " and there it was. Megatron's fists clenched and his eyes were awake now, hard and dimmed with anger.

"Look, Megs," Jazz said, "We both know how this is gonna go. You wanted out, fine, can't blame you. Your little try at playacting the revolutionary didn't work out, alright. But what are you gonna do now? You think you can trade it in for playacting... whatever this is supposed to be?" He gestured at the near-empty apartment, the bare walls, the scant furniture. Megatron kept his optics fixed on Jazz's face with single-minded focus. "And what, you wanted your nice little respectable, romantic admirer to set you up, but you didn't even want to give up your old berthwarmer enough to let that go? And you think that's really gonna last?"

That last part seemed to give Megatron pause. He clenched and unclenched a fist, but his face relaxed. Then, of all things, he started to laugh.

This time it was Jazz who had no response for a klik, before Megatron shook his head and visibly unfurled. "Yes, Orion said you met Starscream yesterday. I believe you're the one to blame for the whining hangover we're going to be dealing with later?"

"Pretty sure I didn't tell him to drink the second bottle," Jazz said. Which was true. He might have _provided_ it, but frankly he'd have liked a little more to himself all things told. That had been pretty nice engex.

"No, he generally makes terrible decisions perfectly well on his own." Megatron sounded milder now. "Well, Jazz, you've made your point in as annoyingly circuitous a way as you always do. I take it the next part concerns your eventual plan to make sure when all that collapses, you can come take Orion away from all this?"

That phrasing needled at Jazz, spoken with an edge of self-satisfied amusement, but he ignored the pang. "Sounds like we're on the same page."

"Hm," Megatron said as he picked his fuel back up. "Well, in that case, no need to keep you. But if you want some advice-"

"Absolutely not," Jazz said pleasantly.

"-then Orion has missed you. Perhaps take some time to talk to him before you disappear again. I think that might be a better use of your time." And with that Megatron walked back across the room and down the hall, shutting the door behind him.

Fragging weird mech and his moodswings. Jazz poured another coolant and tried to ignore the niggling concern he hadn’t quite gotten the last word there.

* * *

That evening, he let Orion pick the bar. Usually he'd insist on choosing himself if just because Orion's idea of a good time when left to his own devices tended to be a little too sedate for Jazz's liking, but he could compromise.

The place Orion chose was nice enough. They got there early and snagged a booth, and Orion let Jazz order for them both and only protested twice when Jazz insisted on paying.

"OK, well, I guess you owe me after this morning," Orion relented. "Starscream tried to shove me out of berth for venting too loud, you slagger, did you have to let him have the second bottle?"

"I was being nice!" Jazz said, and he laughed at Orion's flat look of disbelief. "Not my fault he can't handle his high grade." He took a sip of his drink and shot Orion a look over the top of it.

"Yeah, he complained about how _nice_ you are all morning. Pretty sure that didn't do you as many favours as you might have hoped." Orion was grinning though, broad in a way he rarely shared. There was an affection in it that Jazz realized he hadn't seen from the mech before, more open with his fondness than he could recall. It suited him.

"So," Jazz said, sliding into the conversational opening. "Ya didn't really explain- what's the backstory, there?" He chuckled. "Gotta say, it was one thing to hear you were shacking up with _anyone_ , but two mechs?"

He expected a blush, but Orion laughed, bright and amused. "He doesn't actually live with us. Technically. He's very insistent on that point." Looking down, Orion furrowed his brow, still smiling. "I'm sure you got the details from him last night. That _is_ why you got him overcharged? I know what you’re like, you’re a terror.”

"Mech, you wound me," Jazz said, happily insincere. "Anyway, I got enough outta him that I'm not sure I'd call him a reliable source. Is he always like that?"

"Oh, worse, usually. He has a particular knack for throwing you off." Orion shook his head. "But it's really not that interesting. Like I told you, I met him through Megatron- he knew Starscream first. That's really all there is to it."

"So Megs and him," Jazz said, "Old flames, or what?"

"Oh," Orion said, and there was some of the bashfulness he'd expected. "Er, nothing like that. I won't, uh, bore you with the details, but no. We asked him in. After."

That wasn't what he'd expected. "Guess it makes sense. Megs never struck me as the commitment type, really. Gotta say, I was surprised when you said you were even living together."

Jazz took a drink. When he lowered his cube, Orion was looking at him strangely, and silent. The bashfulness was gone again. When the silence stretched on, Jazz cocked his head, absently drumming a finger on the sticky table between them. "Shanix for your thoughts?"

"That was a strange thing to say," Orion said. He didn't sound upset, just curious. He had that look on his face when he was running a process internally, sorting through something. Consummate archivist.

"I call 'em like I see 'em, is all," Jazz said. "Just seems a bit weird you're moving in together one day and him bringing someone else to visit the next."

"Starscream's not a visitor," Orion said, "And Megatron didn't. I did."

Jazz found, quite uncharacteristically, that he didn't have anything at all to say to that.

"Well," Orion allowed, "It was- more complicated than that. But I don't think I've explained this very well. The only reason Starscream doesn't live with us is that he gets prickly at the idea of things like that, we didn't want to push it. He's just not on the lease is all. Actually, that's probably for the best, he doesn't _technically_ have a criminal record but a background check probably wouldn't be the best idea anyway, all things considered.”

That was the thing that really froze Jazz's processor, Orion just casually dropping the "criminal record" in there.

Jazz remembered once, a good while back now, he'd taken Orion out to a bar. His choice, that time. Orion had never been much of a drinker but he had very few chances to get out of the archives and tended to go along with it when Jazz dropped by and asked if he was free that evening. The bar had been, in all honesty, a total dive, but the music was good and it wasn't too busy on a weekday, so Orion hadn't been overwhelmed like he got sometimes.

Jazz remembered Orion worrying horribly over Jazz buying dross off one of the regulars he knew from around. Jazz had laughed it off, told Orion he worried too much, and thought fondly about how sweet it was he was worried Jazz was going to get in trouble over some little packet of dross in a nowhere bar, like that, of all things, was the thing to worry about.

Orion had always been a soft spark. Jazz had thought, more than once, he ought to try to be around a little more. Mech needed _someone_ to look out for him. Jazz missed that sometimes. Often. Reconsidered the distance. Thought about maybe bringing it up, but then never found the way to do it without suggesting… anyway.

He was pretty sure Starscream had admitted to weapon theft last night. He'd been indirect, but quite smug about it. Jazz had been amused at the audacity, and wondered what would happen when Orion cottoned on, whether there'd need to be some damage control.

Apparently not.

He hadn't spoken for a klik; Orion wasn't saying anything, just looking at him calmly.

"Fair enough," Jazz said, tapping his finger to the beat of the trash music this place has on low in the background and snapping back. He brought back the smile. He finished his cube. "You want another?"

* * *

They got back early and Orion went off to clean up. So it was just Jazz when Starscream slipped back in.

"There you are," he said, "Have a nice interrogation?"

"Lovely, thanks," Jazz said, shrugging. He was still a little buzzed, but if he engaged his FIM chip he was probably gonna give himself a headache overthinking the last couple hours, so he left it for now. "Have a nice hangover?"

"Ugh," Starscream says, face twisting. "Frag you. Anyway, are you done now?"

"Done?" Jazz said, but only because Starscream seemed to expect a response.

"With the weird shovel talk slag. Obviously." Starscream made a great show of examining his pointed servos. "Did you get it out of your system, or do you need another round of playing at concerned not-actually-his-amica?"

Jazz propped his head on one fist, looking Starscream over. Strange, strange mech. Hard to read someone who was more nervous tic than not, ironically. Not a bad strategy.

"More or less," he said.

"Oh good. Megatron is insufferable about that sort of thing, honestly."

Jazz thought about the last couple of days, considered that he had a day-long drive tomorrow, neatly sequestered off the amica comment to think about precisely never, and produced another bottle from his subspace.

"Wanna see if we can get Orion drunk enough to talk some slag?"

Starscream outright cackled. "Sure, why not.”

It could always be worse, Jazz thought, waving Orion over as he came out the washrack, pretending not to notice Starscream leering at him exaggeratedly. At least he wasn't drinking buddies with Megatron yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me yelling on Twitter at [@auto_thots](https://twitter.com/auto_thots).


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